Insincerely, Perfect
by The Goddess Of Flash
Summary: She's the VP of the student council, a liar, and - now - she's the penpal of "literally, the most irritating and pompous ass I've ever had the misfortune of writing to." AkashixOC
1. Prologue to Perfection

**A/N:**

 **Hey. So, originally I wanted to put the email addresses in here, but the silly website won't let me put the 'at' symbol, so instead I just** **put the student number. So when you see a student number (like 47828) read it like 47828 ATSYMBOL Rakuzan . jap . edu.**

 **Sigh. Goddamn ff . net. Anyway, shouldn't be a problem next chapter...**

 **Please enjoy :D**

* * *

 **A Kuroko no Basket FanFiction**

 _Insincerely, Perfect_

"I had become a perfect fake human, saying the stupid and pointless things that humans say to each other all day long."

 **CHAPTER ONE:**

 **Prologue to Perfection**

* * *

It was the last session of the day. Community and Connect. Or something. Whatever it was (Cultivate and Continue? Crash and Burn with a Catchy Title?) I sincerely hoped it would involve an hour at a shelter for an easy A, or something useless like that. Something that made people feel better, fluffed up their resumes, was a successful waste of a Tuesday afternoon, but didn't waste my time. I already had my hands full with Student Council business, and another job would be irritating.

"Kita-chan?"

I looked up, smile slipping into place easily. "Yuri-chan, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing." She squatted down next to me, the signal for the rest of her friends to move in and crowd around. So we could _chat_.

Or something stupid like that.

"Did you hear what happened to Tanu-sensei?"

I blinked, leaning forwards just the right amount to seem curious but not too nosy. "Nope. Is she okay?"

"Well her boyfriend dumped her."

Ugh. Who cares? There are wars going on and sensei-slut drops another boy-toy. Call CNN. "Oh, poor Tanu-sensei. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, but she's taking the week off so we get to have Yamata-sensei for English tomorrow and Friday." Yuri whispered conspiratorially, winking while her friends tittered like so many vapid hummingbirds.

"Ooh, how exciting." I grinned, placing my chin on my upturned palm. "I hope he- oh, Yamamoto-sensei is here." I cut myself off, shrugging sadly at the girls. "Talk later."

They dispersed, twittering their ways back to their desks and beginning their ritualistic preening the second they sat down. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead glanced over at my favourite PDA couple. Either they were sickeningly together or fantastically apart, and judging by the rose Emiko was trying to stealthy sneak into Eiji's bag (and the way he was not-so-subtly trying to shove it out of her reach) they were having one of their fabulous fights. I'm not kidding, their screaming matches and B-grade movie reunions were the stuff of my happiness. Emiko, desperately failing in her plan, put the rose down and begun constructing a paper plane.

I bit back a snort and looked over at Yamamoto-sensei, who was saying something about happiness and healing. Goddamned alliteration.

"-other schools. As it is anonymous, using your school account, we have sent you all the five rules for corresponding with your partner." I glanced imperceptibly at the guy who sat next to me (Isao, all round popular guy and wanker) and took in his disgusted expression. Right, so it was some kind of ridiculously bad scheme that involved an anonymous partner from another school. Yamamoto-sensei, in typical fashion, pulled out his laptop and glanced dispassionately at the class. "Right, so log into your emails and read up on the instructions then get started." He then flipped open his screen, and got stuck into his usual lip-biting display of trying to not be angry at the idiocy of the reports he read.

Seeing no other option (bar throwing a 'my head hurts can I see the nurse please'), I opened my laptop and logged in quickly, opening my school emails and sighing at the new messages- 26. Honestly. I was away for a few hours at most. People were so impatient.

 _From: Sasaki Yuri_

 _Sent: 2:30 pm today_

 _Subject: This is stupid- y do we have 2?_

Ugh, group email, delete.

 _From: Fukui Eiji_

 _Sent: 2:27 pm today_

 _Subject: Is Emiko still in love with me?_

I glanced over at him, saw he had already (inexplicitly) made up with his long-time-beau and was making eyes at her and deleted the email.

 _From: Hamasaki Isao_

 _Sent: 1:59 pm today_

 _Subject: r u free weked_

(Translation for the literate: are you free this weekend to go to yet another mixer and pretend that you're interested in the horsehite people call conversation?) I quickly sent a reply – with a smiley emoticon of course – and then deleted the email, adding the event to the calendar dairy I kept with me at all times.

The next twenty were a mixture of late remainders (the school calendar system was the definition of useless, and liked to send reminders approximately forty-three hours after whatever event you needed to be reminded of had happened), library notices ( _I swear, if I get one more of these…)_ and promos from clubs around the school (including the relaxation club, who advertised nice smells and 'super fun' people, but were really a cover for the drop-outs to get high and claim 'but it's incense' if anyone questioned them). I deleted them all then moved on to the next three.

 _From: Matsumoto Tadashi_

 _Sent: 12:02 pm today_

 _Subject: Are you coming to the Student Council meeting this afternoon?_

Matsumoto was the President of the council and, much to my chagrin, my boss. Extremely beloved by the cooing females, and too smart to be anything but in charge, he kept a strict schedule and a tight leash on everyone in the council. People did their jobs and everyone looked good- it was practically his motto. Inwardly sighing, I typed out a reply.

 _From: Tsukino Kita_

 _Sent: 2:38 pm today_

 _Subject: Are you coming to the Student Council meeting this afternoon?_

 _Hey Pres._

 _I'll be there, but Seiji said he had work today, so I'm happy to cover the minutes._

So not happy. Make someone else do it you dictator.

 _From: Yamada Seiji_

 _Sent: 11:56 pm today_

 _Subject: tell pres I have work pls. I owe you_

Trash.

 _From: Too Academy_

 _Sent: 11:44 pm today_

 _Subject: Correspondence with a high school student._

 _Dear Tsukino,_

 _As per your Pastoral Care classes, we have an exciting new task for you all!_

 _In your pastoral care sessions, two each week, you will be emailing a student from Rakuzan High. The process is anonymous and the other student will only see your student ID number, not your name, so feel free to be as honest as possible!_

 _The student you who are partnering with will be required to send you two emails per week, as will you. But before you begin this exciting task, here are the five rules you have to follow._

 _1._ _Don't ask for personal information from your partner, and don't pressure them into giving any._

 _2._ _Don't give away personal information to your partner- this is to help you talk to another person candidly about high school, don't complicate things!_

 _3._ _Email twice every week, to keep your partner updated._

 _4._ _Be polite to your partner- emails are automatically monitored for swearing and key words and phrases so don't do anything our principal wouldn't!_

 _5._ _Have fun!_

 _For your first email we suggest you should say these things:_

 _1._ _Establish a name for yourself_

 _2._ _Tell the person three things about yourself_

 _3._ _Be engaging_

 _4._ _Tell them something interesting_

 _Tsukino, your partner's student number is:_

 _47828_

 _Have fun,_

 _The teachers of Too._

Are you kidding me?

Two emails per week to a stranger. Having to pretend to be upbeat and engaged to yet another moron?

No thank you.

I looked up to see what everyone else was doing, and to my dismay, most of them had begun typing furiously, pouring their hearts out to strangers who couldn't give a damn about them.

I glared tiredly at my laptop. Typical. Another job.

I continued to tap the keyboard irritably, trying to think of a way out of the job, when a thought occurred to me.

If the emails were, actually, anonymous then I wouldn't have to pretend to be anyone or anything. I could say whatever I wanted (providing I didn't tip off the filters) and face no repercussions. In other words, I could be honest with the stranger. I could say what I wanted, about whomever I wanted, and complain bitterly about the eejits I faced daily.

Oh yes.

Much more fun.

I swallowed a smile and began typing.

From: Tsukino Kita

 _To:_ _47828_

 _Sent: 3:12 pm today_

 _Subject: PC program._

 _Dearest partner in the newest learning strategy that will flop,_

 _I am reliably informed, by the failures people call our teachers, that this is my newest waste of time. Alongside Student Council duties, Judo training, table tennis practice, English Conversation Club, hosting the Friday afternoon school radio slot, school choral rehearsals, maintaining the sane-levels of the people who are my 'friends', staying top thirty for results and being the All-Round Golden Girl, I must now correspond with you. Fan-tas-tic._

 _I'm supposed to tell you three things about myself? Sure._

 _1._ _I am perfect- I do everything perfect. I say the right things, befriend the right people, join the right clubs. Everything I do is mathematically correct. And because you'll never know who I am, to you, I will simply write the things I hate (everything) to you. I don't care if you read, but you have to reply. If my partner doesn't reply then things aren't perfect. For me, things must be perfect._

 _2._ _I'm the VP of the Student Council alongside two other morons (technically treasurer and secretary but the lines for our jobs were blurred way back in the nineties). One of which is there because he could charm the knickers off a red-neck pensioner, and the other because he's the most efficient ass of the school. The Pres, despite his tendencies to over-work everyone else, is the most popular guy in the school, and a scheming bastard I (for my own safety) stay on the very good side of._

 _3._ _I hate cats. Can't stand 'em. The little nitwits have f***ed personalities and weird eyes._

 _Something interesting? How about everything I say._

 _Anyway, all of this is just good venting for me. Reply with whatever you want._

 _Insincerely,_

 _Perfect._

I bit back a grin and sent it.

Noticing I had a few minutes before the bell went and I had to face Matsumoto's boring meeting, I pulled up my maths assignment and, sighing, began diligently working.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Drop a review if you're feeling wild.**


	2. Keep your friends close

**A/N:**

 **The email address problem is mostly fixed. Other than that, if the names of the different characters are too confusing, PM me or review and I'll make a little explanation thingo at the beginning of chapters. Thinking of doing a recap at the beginning of chapters too, just for a refresher- good idea or no?**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **A Kuroko no Basket FanFiction**

 _Insincerely, Perfect_

"You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

 **CHAPTER TWO:**

 _Keep your friends close and the idiots closer_

* * *

It was all going well. My day had been pretty much rubbish, and everyone was once again satisfied that I was Legally Gold. In a rare moment of tiredness, I let my mask drip off my face, yawning and staring grumpily out into the courtyard that the fifth storey window afforded me a view of. People, as usual, were congregating around their friends. Some of the apes were playing with each other's hair, some were not-so-slyly looking over at the people they wanted to talk with but didn't have the guts to, some were grandstanding, and some were just gorging themselves and chatting away like grade-A idiots. I rolled my eyes and looked up, smile plastered back on, just in time to catch Matsumoto Tadashi rounding the corner, his obsidian eyes flicking up from whatever textbook he was reading.

"Tsukino-san."

"Matsumoto-kun." I waved, adding just the right amount of spring to my step as I approached. "What are you doing in the art department?"

"I had to pick up a book for my friend."

Friend. Matsumoto. Can't pick up book themselves. My mind whizzed for a second before a face came to mind. "Aw, Ryo-san, right? How's his leg?"

"Doing well." Matsumoto replied evenly, not phased – as per freaking usual – by my immense knowledge of the students at our school. "He should be off crutches by next week."

"Still, it's so sweet that you're getting his stuff for him."

"Thank you. Why are you here?"

Abrupt nature. So distasteful. I grinned. "Aw, you know, I just wanted to see a friend's new piece, it's really pretty." Which was true, partly. I had gone up here for peace and quiet, but the painting – which I'd said I was going to take a gander at – was sort of okay. If you squinted.

"I'll take your word for it. How is the report for the dance items going?"

"Really well, actually," I beamed, slipping into familiar report-your-work-sergeant mode, "I'm just waiting for the company with all the party decorations to call back with an estimated figure. Of course, Sawa-san offered her father's company, but I think it would be best to compare the prices."

"Of course."

"And you, Pres? How's the run-sheet for the next meeting going? Sasaki-Sensei told me that we needed to talk about trying to tone down the agriculture club's spending."

Matsumoto shrugged, blinking nonchalantly. "Their president is a friend, so I'll just ask her in English, we don't need to discuss it at the meeting."

 _Tch, typical._ I thought, inwardly flinging rotten fruit at him. He would just charm her into submission. As far as I knew, there was only one girl he hadn't charmed into his pet slave in the whole school when he'd tried to add her to his army: me. Me, with my two-faced perfection had been perfectly happy to comply with his wishes, but even I couldn't handle keeping my façade in check if I had to pretend that I was a slave. So, I had politely redirected his attentions, showing him I wasn't anybody's fool, while also proving my loyalty by doing what he asked when he asked regardless.

To everyone else we were simply equals, friends, but if there was anyone at the school who knew that I was not-so-perfect, it would have been Matsumoto. He hardly knew how much I was lying, but he knew I was. Which made him part-dangerous, part-intriguing. He was playing the same pseudo-perfect game as me, and the fact that he knew I was playing and still kept up pretences was interesting. What he thought he would get out of our fake-flawless relationship always fascinated me. He was more popular than me, so he hardly needed to pretend to keep me on side. And yet, I was still standing as second, maybe third, most popular, no debunking in sight.

Curious.

I giggled. "You are so popular Matsumoto-kun! Thanks, oh, I better go now, Yuri said she wanted to talk about her dress to- well I've quite forgotten which formal! Anyway, bye!" I waved brightly, rounding the corner and dejectedly making my way to Yuri. There goes my two-minute rest.

Another couple of hours later and I was finally free, the bell heralding the sweet mercy of the end of the school day. Only, I just had to get through the oh-it's-so-sad-it'll-be-eighteen-hours-till-we-see-each-other-again hugs.

Chika, my widely acknowledged best friend, was first; striding over she perched herself on my desk. "I can't believe we have so much homework!" She sighed.

"I know, I know. Are you going to be able to do it with track this afternoon?"

Chika, aka BFF, was the school's prodigy sprinter, imported from god knows where, and with legs to die for, she was also a little slutty. But I wasn't going to judge her- her capitol was huge and being her friend meant connections, and likability, especially with some of the more elitist sport people.

"I don't know. I'll probably have to stay up late."

I 'awed' in sympathy and exchanged a few more considerate lines with her before she had to dart off to track. One down, two to go.

Next Isao sent me a charming grin from the table next to mine. "So you're coming to the mixer this weekend?"

"Absolutely. Can't wait. And how is football going?" I queried, packing up my bag as he extoled his many virtues on the field, backed up by two of his best friends (the Kens, I called them; they were perfect, idiotic and followers through and through).

After a few minutes I shook them off, making my way to my locker and chatting quickly with a few people as I walked, complementing and questioning- making sure everyone felt special. My last check-in was with either Moto or Ueda, who usually cornered me at my lockers with whatever the day's job was. Sure enough, I found Ueda's chiselled features and cool smile waiting for me when I reached for my shoes.

His honey-toned voice greeted me before I'd even mustered up the energy to be annoyed it was him, not the officious Moto, waiting for me. "Hey Kita."

Every time he said that I want to tell him to call me Tsukino. He had no right to bandy about my first name, but he was also the girls' number one boytoy (and a model to boot), so I kept my frustration contained and smiled back. "Hey Ueda-kun. What's up?"

"I just wanted to ask about some advice."

"Shoot." I called, tying up my shoes and walking outside with him, stopping at the gates to hear about the latest trite he called a life.

"Well, I was wondering which format I should use for the monthly report? I know Moto always uses the fancy embellished one, and you use the blue one with all the funky lines, but thus far I've avoided doing the reports, so I have no clue what to do with the one I have now."

Of god-damned course. Never to do a day's work: his motto.

I laughed, masking my cynicism by smiling extra widely. "So, funky or embellished is your question?"

"Yeah. I have to get it done so I can go on a date with Mizumi."

I frowned, the name was completely unfamiliar to me. "Which one is Mizumi?"

"Oh, she's from another school, don't sweat it. So, your advice…?"

I shifted my bag further up my shoulder and set him a winning grin. "Neither, pick something that's sensible but not boring, otherwise you look like you're copying. I'd try the green one with the bubbles."

"Green and bubbles, got it. You're a life-saver Kita." He replied smoothly, ruffling my hair and heading back towards the school.

I groaned internally. Why was that prick my competition for second-most-popular? Where was the justice?

Flipping my phone open as I made my way to the train station, I skimmed over the subjects of the emails I had, before reaching something interesting. Curious, I clicked it open and read as I got on my train.

 _From: 47828_

 _To:_ Perfect

 _Sent: 2:58 pm today_

 _Subject: RE: PC program._

 _Dear Perfect,_

 _While I agree that this new program is a great waste of time, I find your flippancy somewhat confusing. If you do everything perfectly, then why be honest in these emails; even though they are anonymous, they could easily be read? I also have a long list of tasks I must see to too, though I won't list them for my own satisfaction and your obligatory awe, as you did._

 _In terms of our correspondence, if the emails are not monitored for length, surely it saves more time to simply send blank emails or ones with few words?_

 _As to the three things about yourself, the list seems stupid. A waste of time._

 _Nonetheless, in regards to 1. I must say I agree with your strategy; one I have employed myself. 2. Your disregard and blatant dislike for your co-workers must get in the way of your goal to be perfect, so why continue it? 3. I have no strong feelings towards cats._

 _In return, 3 things about myself._

 _Unlike you, I do not strive to be perfect. I am, and I conduct myself in a way always befitting of this._

 _I play basketball_

 _I dislike giraffes greatly, though have no justification for it, much like your hatred of cats._

 _Needing to vent to an anonymous person from another school shows that you are probably not as stable pretending to be perfect as you imagine._

 _Regards,_

 _Emperor_

My first thought was that 'Emperor' was a ridiculous and self-absorbed name. My second was that the person, 'Emperor', seemed to emulate myself in a few ways, and so a nom-de-plum that hinted towards something more than the Average Joe was probably not that ridiculous. Especially considering mine was 'perfect'.

My third thought was to save the number to my email, so I wouldn't have to retype it every time, smirking as I labelled him 'Empress'.

The rest of the email seemed slightly stilted and formal, but Rakuzan was one of the schmancy rich schools, so what could you expect, right?

Emperor was obviously up themselves and quite condescending at times, but he had replied so that was a bonus. Most of it was vaguely amusing (especially the illogical giraffe-hate), but he was also an ass. Kind of like most of the people at my school, though – in a way – more frank than the idiots I co-habited with, considering there was a bulletproof mask of anonymity between Emperor and I that made honesty easy.

I closed the email and put my phone back into my bag, deciding to reply next in class and waste the rest of my time trying to figure out how to cut down my history assignment.

* * *

"I mean, it's outrageous, right?"

I stifled a yawn. Having got up at the satan-ly hour of five for Judo before choir (which resembled more a cacophony of screeching harpies than a group of talented singers), I was running on low battery, and trying to fake interest in Chika's gamer-life was exhausting.

"So, Ron took your ammo?"

"But that's not the only issue here!" Chika cried, slamming her hands on my desk and glowering at my pencil case like it too had done whatever grievous crime Ron (her online partner) had committed. "I mean, he's so much more distant since the…"

I tuned her out, studying the people in my class in my periphery. It didn't take long for my restless gaze to find possibly the best people in my year; Emiko and Eiji.

As it was during lunch, they had pulled their chairs right next to each other and were trying to feed each other octopus. Only, Emiko's hand-eye-co-ordination was so bad that I looked like a sporting legend in comparison. But, instead of getting angry, Eiji would just pick it up with his chopsticks and feed it to her. It was kind of adorable, kind of gross. And also sad for Eiji, because he was definitely not getting any nutrition if she was eating everything.

About the time I made this observation, Emiko said something along the same line. Eiji whispered something to her I couldn't hear and she just nodded. However, not giving up the ghost, the next time it happened Emiko simply smashed her face to his once he'd given her the food. Effectively feeding him like a bird.

Deciding that the PDA Duo had given me more than enough of a display, I moved my gaze back to Chika, settling myself in for half an hour of boredom.

It was only when I'd gotten to the relative relief of the dead silence offered by Pastoral Care when I finally found my mind waking up. Dealing with my smart-ass of a partner seemed like a nice challenge, and a great vent for my frustration. It was an activity – I was to surprised to find – I found quite cathartic.

 _From: Perfect_

 _To: Empress_

 _Sent: 2:19 pm today_

 _Subject: RE: PC program._

 _Emperor,_

 _Isn't it a nice change to be honest? I am not the perfect sociopath I had hoped to be as a child (I kid of course. I always wanted to be a lavender farmer as a child) and so continuous lying is a little taxing occasionally. And the no repercussions due to anonymity (as I explained, see previous) appealed to me. And if anyone goes through my emails, I'm sure I'd have more issues to deal with than them simply reading my correspondence with my pen-pal._

 _I appreciate your unfounded jab at my list, quite droll. My list was a good one, one I doubt you could equal._

 _It may save time having a blank email, but I may as well do something in this lesson. Also, as I mentioned, it's a nice change to be honest._

 _The list_ was _stupid. A forced conversation starter is hardly likely to ever be actually a good one._

 _But in reply to your list, 1) As I am anonymous I feel safe to say that you sound like an arrogant prick saying this. 2) A sporting endeavour. Congratulations. Are you any good? 3) Giraffes at least won't claw your eyes out for no good reason._

 _This next bit I ask merely out of the ingrained need to be polite. How is your life going? What is your favourite colour? Have you read_ The Picture of Dorian Gray? _If not, I would recommend it. It is my all-time favourite. Oscar Wilde was a brilliant man._

 _(I like things in threes, very neat. A nice balance for anything, I think. Hence three questions.)_

 _Writing that you too are perfect, also indicates that you are not as stable as you imagine, no? Having to tell me denotes a certain sense of showmanship not found in true perfection._

 _I am perfectly stable, but forgive me your highness, if I find it therapeutic to be honest twice a week. I am, unfortunately, only human. A perfect one, but only to others._

 _Insincerely,_

 _Perfect_

 _P.S. While I am willing to admit my name is quite an egotistical one, yours – to me, at least – is worse. Perfect implies self-delusion, but surely Emperor implies not only self-delusion but also a grandiose view of oneself that can, under no circumstances, be regarded as being either truthful or logical?_

After finishing I made a face to myself. Clearly the boy's politeness had caught on. Either that or I'd been subconsciously trying to sound even smarter than my new buddy (ha). Deciding it was not a question I needed answered, I pressed send and then resigned myself to an hour of readying reports for the student council meeting.

* * *

I was surprised when, the next day, I checked my inbox to see a reply from Emperor.

Huh.

After I clicked it open I did all I could to restrain myself from snorting at the contents in the middle of my History class.

 _From: Empress_

 _To: Perfect_

 _Sent: 8:58 am today_

 _Subject: RE: PC program._

 _Dear Perfect,_

 _Honesty is not something I require- as you say, the perfect_ sociopath _(not psychopath), does not need to be open about all things. The no repercussions seems a flimsy excuse- there is nothing that has no repercussions._

 _It was fairly obvious in my last email that my list was far superior to yours- concise and self-explanatory._

 _Surely, instead of wasting your time writing an email, you could work?_

 _People have said I am good at basketball, and it isn't difficult to agree. Cats are companions, and can be trained, while giraffes are illogical and are a pest._

 _My life is fine. My favourite colour is gold._ The Picture of Dorian Grey _is a well-thought-out novel. Have you read_ 1984? _George Orwell is my favourite writer, in the Western hemisphere, at least._

 _Your compulsive need for things in three is borderline compulsive._

 _Writing that I am perfect is simply honesty- a trait you espoused verbosely._

 _Admitting that you are 'only human' suggests you are making an excuse not to be perfect. Is this your failsafe?_

 _Regards,_

 _Emperor_

 _P.S. My name neither suggests egoism or delusions of grandeur. We were simply asked to pick a name and mine was one that has been used to describe an ability of mine._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Wowzers.**

 **The last chapter didn't even have a single cannon character and it still got three reviews- I was completely floored!**

 **Huge thanks to Erwynne, Cooliceprincess, Ninja99 for reviewing! And hugs to all who favourited/followed! LOVE TO ALL.**

 **Leave a review if you're a crazy cat.**


	3. A problem shared is just another problem

**Previously on** ** _With Regards, Bitchy VP:_** **Tsukino Kita got a new penpal, the mysterious and formal sounding Emperor (no points for guessing who he is). Matsumoto Tadashi (resident Pres and even more perfect than Kita), Moto Sadao (secretary and super-planner), and Ueda Yuu (play-boy and treasurer) are her compatriots in the Student Council.**

* * *

 **A Kuroko no Basket FanFiction**

 _Insincerely, Perfect_

"I love listening to lies when I know the truth."

 **CHAPTER THREE:**

 ** _A problem shared is just another problem_**

* * *

Having just received emails that morning from our penpals, the hot topic on Friday lunch was said buddies.

"My penpal seems alright but I hope he's not as hot as me." Isao proclaimed, winking at me.

I swallowed an involuntary gag.

"Gosh, Isao-kun, stop!" Yuri giggled, swatting his arm.

He shot her a charming smile. "I'm a simple guy."

No disagreement from me.

"Well," Chika said, changing the subject as tactfully as an athlete could, "my penpal is almost illiterate. He talks in abbreviations and uses the pseudonym 'kewl' with a K." Chika hung her head in disgust. "At this point I'm not sure why I even bother replying."

I twittered in laughter, my voice seamlessly melding with the other ones of my 'friendship' group. One of Isao's Kens, the stupider one, turned to me. "How about you Kita-chan?"

Is it crazy to want to copyright my name so that the morons stopped fouling it up?

"Oh. Mine's," literally the most irritating and pompous ass I've ever had the misfortune of writing to, "okay. He's pretty formal though." He's quite amusing to talk to, on the other hand.

"No way. I bet he's some rich heir." Yuri said, preening at the mere thought. "I mean it's school for super rich guys, yeah?"

I smiled indulgently. "I'm not sure, but that would be pretty cool."

"Like Ouran?" Chika asked, looking up from the bento she was opening.

"Oh my god, what if he's Kyoya?" Yuri squealed, grabbing my arm, "can we please swap?"

Everyone laughed and I stood up after a few more minutes of wasted chatter, gesturing to the door. "Anyway, I better go to the rep meeting." _Sweet, sweet escape!_

They all waved me off and I embraced the brief silence as I walked down the halls to the student council room. The student rep meeting happened once every moth, where the representatives from each part of the school and the student council met up and discussed budgets, rooms, and practice times. While most schools usually gave the brunt of the admin work to the club's teacher supervisor, Tōō's philosophy was all about preparing its students for Real Life, but I was also fairly certain the teachers had wanted to shunt the work onto someone else. Fortunately, the last meeting had had too many people, so Matsumoto and I had cut the individual reps, and just had the ones from each section. Fewer people meant less of a headache.

So the meeting had me, Matsumoto, Moto, Ueda, the sports rep, music rep, arts rep, culture rep, school rep (basically the idiot who looked after the clubs that promoted the school, or actually changed things in the school, like the gardening society), and the other miscellaneous people who were part of the student council but had unimportant jobs like administration.

Bad, but not horrific.

Most of the people there usually came to the weekly student council meeting anyway, but technically we had to reassess any club applications and issues every month.

Horrifically boring and dry.

And the meeting took so long we had to continue it after school as well. The only redeeming feature was that the Tea Society and the Biscuit Appreciation Club catered the afternoons in exchange for increased funding. Technically it wasn't against any rules, so Pres and I kept up with the five-year long tradition of bribery. Speak no evil, see no evil and all.

"Hi guys!" I greeted cheerfully, opening the door to see the room mostly full.

Various people responded as I sat down at the head of the table, Matsumoto to my right and Moto to my left.

Moto had probably teleported to be there a second after the lunch bell rung.

I pulled out the small packet of chips I'd grabbed from my kitchen this morning; that, and an apple I'd eaten on the way here, had been the only things I'd had time to get before I went to school for radio prep.

Ueda grabbed the packet as I opened it, practically taking Matsumoto out to reach across the table. Luckily, Matsumoto was the baseball team's pitcher so he dodged (athleticism and all that) and shot Ueda a measured look. The latter ignored him and instead opened the packet and took a chip. "Well, these are good, but not really good enough for lunch, I think."

He offed one to Matsumoto who declined politely.

"I was running late." I said in an off-hand tone, gesturing for the _bastard_ to give them back.

The play boy smiled as he put them in my hand. "Do you want some of mine?"

I laughed. "Thanks but I'll be fine."

Moto looked at me blankly. "That's not a nutritious lunch."

I looked over at him and shrugged. "It's fine."

Matsumoto cleared his throat and looked at the room at large. "Alright, let's start."

It was only a few minutes later that the first problem arose.

"Seiji," Ueda began, frowning at his best friend as he sorted through the club reports, "where's the basketball team's report?"

Yamada Seiji, the sports rep, grimaced. "Imayoshi refused to submit it. He said he did it last month, so why did he have to do it again?"

Everyone in the room shot him a sympathetic smile. The horror of dealing with Imayoshi (aka the demon-boy voted Most Likely To Join The Yakuza three years running) was a well-known struggle. However, Yamada was also lazy as hell, so I doubted it would've taken more than a firm word to get the report. Demon or not, Imayoshi was unlikely to want his club cut because he didn't fill out some forms.

"Surely it can't be that hard to get him to do his job?" Moto asked, voicing my thoughts in his monotone drawl.

Seiji shivered. "It's that hard."

Matsumoto blinked, his brain taking half a second to come up with a solution. "How about I assign the basketball team to someone else?"

Yamada's pretty face perked up. "For reals Pres? Oh my god I love you."

Matsumoto said nothing to the other boy, instead looking around at everyone else for volunteers. Moto grumbled something under his breath about the world going mad because the sports rep would not be overseeing a sports group and why did he even bother trying anymore.

And although every part of me was dying at the idea of another job, and not a single fibre of my being wanted to volunteer, I smiled at him. "I'm happy to do it." I said in a chipper voice.

Beside me, Moto wrote down the change in oversight. Matsumoto nodded to show his appreciation. Yamada thanked me profusely, and Ueda sighed. "You're too nice for your own good."

Um, no, not really.

"Aw, thanks!"

* * *

Matsumoto, luckily, hadn't minded when I'd asked him to cover for me for a few minutes that afternoon. Knowing him, I was sure it would manifest itself in a return favour later, but I was glad he didn't mention that immediately- it gave me the sense of temporary (yet imagined) relief.

So while Matsumoto filled in my spot on the school radio station, I found myself on the way to the gym.

Basketball.

Ugh.

Not only was it a boring sport, but the way Emperor had boasted about his prowess made me irrationally angry toward _every_ basketball player. They should all just die.

I fixed a dazzling smile onto my face as I approached a first year who was entering the gym. Sakurai Ryo, my mind supplied as I cleared my throat. "Hi."

He spun around and would have fallen over if I hadn't grabbed his arm, quickly slipping on a concerned façade. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"O-oh, no, I'm sorry, I should have been paying attention, sorry for the inconvenience!"

Right.

Quashing my natural instinct to roll my eyes, I patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Oh don't worry, I'm just glad you didn't fall over! Sakurai, is it?"

He looked slightly stunned. "O-oh yes. You're T-Tsukino-san, aren't you?"

"Yeah." I laughed, rubbing the back of my head. "Am I that notorious?"

"No, no, not at all, I'm sorry for-"

"Don't worry." I repeated, intertwining my arm with his. "I was just wondering if you knew were the captain of the basketball team was?"

"I-Imayoshi-san?" Sakurai laughed awkwardly. "Yes, we're just about to start practice so he's probably inside."

"Lovely. You're so nice!" I shot him the dazzlingly smile I hadn't had the chance to use earlier. "Do you mind taking me to him, if it isn't too much trouble?"

Sakurai nodded. "Of course it isn't! I'm sorry if it came off like it was an imposition because it's really not-"

"OI MUSHROOM!" For a brief second, I struggled to repress laughter at the nickname, instead looking appropriately startled as Wakamatsu Kosuke, second year, strode over to us. "No girlfriends at practice, first year."

 _Excuse me?_ Do I look like the kind of person who dates people that can't string together a sentence without apologising for an imagined slight? _Do I?_

I giggled. "Oh, no, sorry, I was just asking Sakurai-kun to help me find Imayoshi-san." I unwound my arm from the first year and extended a hand to the boy, smiling widely. "Tsukino Kita."

He shook it tentatively. "You're the vice president?"

You bet I am bitch.

"Oh," I chuckled, "yeah. Are you a basketball player?" Although it was obvious by the fact he was wearing training clothes, it was much easier to charm people when you sounded interested in their lives.

"Yeah."

Oh great. Ladies and gentlemen- may I introduce the next poet of our generation?

"Wow, that's so cool. Um, I'm really sorry to be interrupting practice, but I was wondering if I could speak to your captain?"

Imayoshi, who had somehow snuck up on me, answered for his teammate. "Of course. Although what the vice pres needs with the basketball team, I can't think."

I turned around, smile now so magnetic it had been known to kill people with kindness. "No big deal."

The third year was every bit the menacing presence that had been described by the near-tears Yamada, and exactly how I remembered him from the few times we'd passed in corridors. "But still, we're so lucky to have been visited by such an," he paused, eyes narrowing to impossibly thin slits, "authority."

 _Punch him. Kick him. Take his eyes out with a spoon._

"Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself." I clasped my hands together behind my back. "I'm the new supervisor of your club, so if you have any issues or budgeting troubles, just come to me!" I laughed lightly. "Oh, and I was talking to Yamada-san, and he said something about the report not being handed in…?" I giggled. "I'm sure it's fine, but I was wondering if I could just grab a copy of the report?"

It was more likely than not that Imayoshi had planned to just cruise through the year without doing any kind of administrative work, simply by intimidating his club's supervisor, but that was not going to fly with me. I had an image to maintain, and one tiny little club was not going to affect my standing in Tōō.

His smile got bigger. "I already handed in my report."

"Oh, really?" I asked, almost dying with the effort it took to repress my sarcasm. "Wait, do you mean the one you handed in at the beginning of the year?"

He nodded. "It detailed everything for the year."

And that was when I progressed from masterful manipulator to Queen of the Human Psyche. I layered on the apologies thick, sounding like I was going to cry in sympathy at one point, saying how _awful_ it was that the rules required so much of the clubs. How _horrible_ it must be to have to write reports all the time. But how _sad_ it was that if they didn't get handed in, the club got cut. At one point he started to make a point about kids on scholarships for basketball, and what a waste that would be, so I filled my eyes with tears. He also mentioned something about only having just become a powerhouse in basketball last year, so I pulled out my pink, scented tissues, dabbing at my eyes emotionally.

Within ten minutes, I had left the gym, leaving behind an emotional scarred basketball team (most of whom were apparently traumatized by the sight of a crying girl), and a captain who had promised me a report by the end of the night.

Yes, Imayoshi was good- but I wasn't VP for nothing.

That evening, as I sat at my desk and fumed at the unfairness of it all – goddamn Yamada to hell – I wrote a quick email to Empress, feeling my muscles slowly relax as I took out my frustration on the nameless boy.

 _From: Perfect_

 _To: Empress_

 _Sent: 2:30pm today_

 _Subject: RE: PC program_

 _Dearest Emperor of… what exactly?_

 _Dearest Emperor of Something That Is Probably Pointless,_

 _Honesty isn't something you require? You just lie all day, every day? Are you lying now- do you really hate giraffes?_

 _Of course nothing is without repercussions- but this won't affect my life here, so no repercussions for me in terms of projecting perfection._

 _My list was better- enough said._

 _I work all the time, ten minutes to craft a single email twice every week where I get to be honest is hardly taxing. Unless you're saying taking twenty minutes out of a week is too much. Is every second of your day so valuable?_

 _What is the point of basketball? Besides from throwing a ball into a hoop in fifteen minute intervals?_

 _Cats are not companions and giraffes are harmless._

 _Gold is a horrid colour- why is it your favourite? George Orwell is good but a dry writer, bar his essays. Do you have a favourite writer from the Eastern Hemisphere?_

 _My need for things in three is natural- all the greats love threes._

 _So you can be witty. 'Espoused verbosely'. Speak for yourself._

 _Admitting that I am 'only human' is not a failsafe, simply more proof I'm not delusional, unlike you. You clearly have some ego issues that need to be put in check, but no offence._

 _In terms of honesty about my life though, as I said I would, here is a recap of what irritated me today:_

 _Moronic friends – or as close to what you'd call friends as possible –, ridiculous errands, and the sports representative who is weak-willed waste of space. Oh yes, and the basketball team, who are dense and useless._

 _Insincerely,_

 _Perfect_

 _P.S. What ability does 'emperor' describe? The ability to be super pretentions and formal?_

Despite Chika telling me that Rakuzan only had PC on Friday and Tuesdays (something her ever-so-interesting penpal had told her), I received a reply Sunday morning.

 _From: Empress_

 _To: Perfect_

 _Sent: 6:04 am today_

 _Subject: RE: PC program_

 _Dear Perfect,_

 _Emperor is a moniker, an allusion, not a title. Emperor of nothing- how disappointing it is to explain basic things to one who claims such high personal standards._

 _I lie whenever it is necessary, if that is all day, so be it- a set number of lies is a base idea. Although, most often, I find honesty is adequate for situations- as long as people fear you enough, you may speak to them plainly without fear of retribution._

 _I dislike giraffes, not because of any potential harm they might cause, but simply as I do not like them- weren't you the one who said we were going to be honest?_

 _Truly believing that nothing has repercussions, that no single event can have out-reaching consequences beyond those you foresee, is unimaginably naïve. How do you maintain perfection with such an idealistic, clean-cut view of the world?_

 _I will not argue the virtues, or otherwise, of your list making 'skills,' as I do not wish to waste my time._

 _Are you really perfect if you have time to waste in your day? Surely you should be furthering your endeavours of perfection? I certainly do not waste my time in such a way._

 _Club activities promote healthy social and physical interaction. That is the point of them. Basketball is merely another thing I excel in, so I participate in it. Additionally, the physical and mental challenge it presents is fascinating, for those able to understand strategy._

 _I'm glad you enjoy asking me personal questions then attempting to invalidate my responses. This is amusing. Gold is the colour of success. My favourite writer is Ōe Kenzaburō._

 _It is not an 'ego issue' if I am simply able to asses my strengths and state them. To suggest otherwise leads me to think that your grasp of basic language is lacking. Consequently, your grip of esoteric concepts is something I wish to never have the misfortune of encountering. If I were exaggerating it would be boasting, but I have no need to exaggerate or speak in hyperboles like yourself._

 _Thank you for your superfluous list of things that 'irritated' you. It seems more and more like you enjoy complaining, and put yourself in situations you can gripe about._

 _If you cannot stand your 'friends' then I suggest making new ones, surely it is not that difficult with all that popularity you claim to possess?_

 _Tōō's basketball team does lack a certain grace and intelligence, I grant you that._

 _Regards,_

 _Emperor_

 _P.S. It has to do with basketball. I doubt you would understand._

Although I knew I had other things to do, I replied pretty quickly, equal parts amused at the ridiculousness of the situation, aggravated by his aloofness and downright _bullshit_ , and vindictive as I took out my frustration on my entire school on him.

 _From: Perfect_

 _To: Empress_

 _Sent: 8:55 am today_

 _Subject: RE: PC program_

 _Dear Emperor,_

 _I was kidding. I know you're the Emperor of Vanity and Insolence. And, I don't claim high personal standards, I embody them._

 _I don't have a set number of lies, and I wasn't suggesting you did, but it's a little hard to believe that you can lie whenever you want, however frequently, and not be at all affected. Clearly, even I am- I'm being honest_ here _even though I have no reason to be besides the want to stop dolling out platitudes all day._

 _I am calling bullshit. No one dislikes giraffes, and for someone who talks about how they've turned themselves into the perfect sociopath, I find it impossible to believe you irrationally hate the animal._

 _My view is not idealistic- emailing you will not affect my standing in Tōō, whatever repercussions there may be. All events have repercussions, but unless you're more invested in my life than I thought, and you laboriously send a copy of these emails to every single person at my school, I think I can handle any fallout from our correspondence._

 _Club activities are important, but basketball hardly seems like a mental challenge. Excelling in basketball merely requires height and good ball skills, yes? I understand strategy fine, and I can't see much of it going on whenever I am fortunate enough to glimpse into the magical world of sweat and baskets._

 _You are wasting your time by emailing me, so let's not argue to pros and cons of typing an email out. Also, I don't waste my time, I use it so efficiently that I have small gaps where I have free time._

 _Why do I always end up having to reply to your barbed comments? It's exhausting to see you clearly trying so hard, and yet missing the mark consistently. Might I suggest archery lessons to improve your aim?_

 _(That was a joke, in case you missed it. You seem the type.)_

 _It's not an attempt to invalidate your responses- it's my incomprehension of how a lesser mind functions and makes decisions. Liking a colour because it's 'the colour of success' is the most egotistical thing you've said yet. Assessing your strengths and deciding you are an 'Emperor' in comparison to the rest of the chaff is certainly not modesty- it's conceit and pride. I may begin to scrapbook your plethora of such phrases to use in court when your narcissism leads you to some kind of white collar crime and you fail to see your mistakes because of said ego._

" _Why sir, the egotism and delusion started at a very young age…"_

 _I have a wonderful grip of esoteric concepts, for your information. Also, I don't speak in hyperboles- the point of this pen pal system (I tell you for the millionth time) is to be honest, not exaggerate._

 _I don't enjoy putting myself in situations where I'm surrounded by morons, it's simply the way the school system functions. And I did say I would be writing to you to vent, so I'm baffled at your surprise- do you need to reread the emails so you can keep up?_

 _My 'friends' were selected for their valuableness, I'm not going to abandon my hard work because they are fools, I knew that when I selected them. They help keep me popular with groups I would otherwise not have much traction with, so I deal with them, even though I dislike them._

 _Tōō's team are monkeys- I'm glad we agree on something._

 _Insincerely,_

 _Perfect_

 _P.S. Try me. Basketball can't be that difficult to understand. My school does exceedingly well in it and I have had the misfortune of meeting the team; they are idiots._

 _P.P.S. Don't you sleep? Why are you answering emails at 6 in the morning?_

* * *

 **I'M BACK**

 **I am sooooooooooooooooo sorry this took months- exams had me strung up like Jesus, and then I had no faith in this chapter in terms of characterisation of cannon characters and Kita. And then I was like- aw hell, I've left these gorgeous people hanging, better put something up and hope it's not too gross and bad.**

 **Any mistakes or things that you think are wrong? HIT ME WITH IT! Criticism (constructive preferably) is good stuff.**

 **As always, love and hugs to the fantabulous people who reviewed, favourtied, and/or followed- ya'll are hot stuff. The reviewers: Cooliceprincess, Ninja99, constellatedstars, and Guest- you guys deserve a Hogwarts letter.**

 **Guest, because I can't reply to your review directly (oh noes) lemme say here:** I'm thrilled you like it! Pacing is always hit-and-miss for me so kudos to you for being so lovely! Hope the next chapter was okay, same for this one! Many thank yous for your review~

 **Well, review if you want... um... I don't know... sneak peak of next chapter? Up to you :D Literally- put 'good' and I'll send you the goods.**

 **Also, I'm a shameless review whore- feed me the praise/words-of-fire-and-hatred and I'll have motivation to write~~~**


End file.
